Her Bejeweled Butt Plug

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“Get the largest one they have.”

Those were the words I remembered as I searched the website for my new purchase, a red bejeweled butt plug crafted by a Frenchman. And how I was tempted to disobey, for they also sold smaller ones, ones that could be worn with little if any discomfort, more to what I thought would be my liking.

But I didn’t dare.

The day it arrived I placed it in a corner, under some other unrelated things, ignoring it as if it would disappear. But it didn’t.

Laying in bed, wanting him, I realized that a week had gone by. I thought of it, wrapped in plain paper, waiting. Thinking how I would please him. Thinking how he would be pleased because it made me so uneasy, because it would fill me up, because it would hurt when all was said and done. And somehow I wanted that too.

It is hard to explain, this want. Hard to explain the feeling of how my body, but especially my ass, came to belong to him, to use and abuse in ways that shocked me. How my want came to be focused there, in my ass, this most unexpected place. This place I refused for so long, to open.

I am his bitch.

I pull the plug out of the box, shocked once again at his command. I feel that familiar moment of rebellion: “No way. I won’t. Fucking pervert. He can go to hell.” Then I imagine his eyes, illuminated before me, speaking without saying one word. I think of them as he fucks me in the mirror so I can see what I am: a worthless slut who wants nothing more than this, to be fucked without mercy—by him alone. I lay the plug down and put on a black fitted skirt, knee-length, with a slit up the front, black stockings, very high heels, and no panties. A transparent black net top with a bra complete the look. My skin pale, red lips, and dark hair loose around my face. Obvious, wanting. His ass slut.

Like this I stare at myself in the mirror, glance down at the plug, knowing what I must do.

I take the lube from beneath the counter and pour it generously into my hand. I smear it around my anus, tuzla escort opening it slightly with my finger, preparing it for what’s coming. Then I lube up the plug, turn myself around so I can watch, lift my skirt and see my white ass, waiting. Just looking at myself this way, knowing I am doing it, doing it for him, makes me wet. And so I grasp the plug firmly in my hand and slide it into place, pushing firmly until I feel my tight anus close around it. And there it is, this little red jewel, visible only to me and he who knows.

Like this I leave my apartment and go to a club. I often go like this, alone. But tonight is different because I can feel how he owns me, how I gave myself to him like this, and could not do otherwise. Standing at the bar I feel the plug pulling, sitting I feel it pushing deeper inside me. And as the men talk to me, buying me drinks, I feel him in me, taking me over. And that is what I want.

I pull out my cell, dial his number.

“Where are you? Come meet me.”

Soon he is there, looking at me, knowing in his own way that I am up to no good.

I try to be nonchalant, taking his hand in mine, putting it on my ass, so I can feel alive. He strokes it lightly, then grabs it slightly, like always. I guide his hand between my cheeks and see a grin on his face.

“Did you get the big one,” he asks.

“Yes Sir, as you wished.”

“Good girl. Let me see.”


He takes my hand and leads me down a dark corridor, near the women’s room.

“Face the wall.”

I quickly obey.

Standing like this, face pressed up against the wall, I hear him talk to someone, a woman. He makes some joke and she laughs. They continue talking and I feel myself getting nervous. I start to turn around but a hand smacks me hard on the ass. I stay put.

“As I was saying, we like to have fun,” I hear him remark.

“Nothing wrong with that,” say the woman, laughing.

“Take my friend here.” “She loves to come to bars on her own with a butt plug tuzla escort bayan up her little ass.”


“Excuse me,” the woman says.

“You heard me. Check it out.”

“I think not.”

“Come on. She lives for this. She has been waiting all night long for someone like you to put her hand up her skirt and feel what’s up her ass. She thinks she is clever. You’d be doing her a huge favor, believe me.”

The next thing I know I feel his hand pressing hers, sliding it up the back of my thigh, over the top of my stocking, between my legs.”

“Spread your legs bitch.”

I comply.


I feel his hand guide hers between my legs, the juice running down, my sense of shame that she will see how bad I want it, and that he was right all along.

And then I feel her run her finger around the outside of the plug, imagine her hand on the red jewel, his hand on hers. I feel it push, pushing the plug further inside me, then pulling it slightly, pushing, pulling.

“What do you say we just fuck this bitch right here with her own plug?,” he says.

“I don’t know,” the woman hesitates.

“Come on. This is easy.”

“Bend over. No, get on all fours bitch.”

“But the floor is dirty,” I protest.

As if it mattered.

“Excuse me.” “Are you registering a complaint, slut?”

“No Sir, can I just say something?’

“Shut your fucking mouth and get down on all fours.”

I feel him push me down to my knees, then pull my head up by my hair.


He shoves his cock down my throat and I do what I am told, all the time feeling the plug in my ass, a foreign body, a mark of the one who owns me. He smacks my ass because I fail him as usual, choking, trying to take all of him–impossible. With every smack on the ass I feel the plug digging deeper inside me. I panic, thinking perhaps it could slide all the way inside and it would be lost there. He could care less.

“Life up her skirt,” he tells the woman.

“I feel her escort tuzla hand pull up my skirt, slowly at first, then just ripping it over my ass.

“Wow, check this out,” she exclaims.

“What color is it,” he asks.

“Red, like ruby.”

“I bet she likes to get fucked with this thing.” says the woman.

“She lives for it,” he replies. “Go ahead and fuck the bitch’s ass.”


“Sure. As if these people care.”

The woman looks around. “Yeah, they are no better,” she remarks.

“Go ahead and straddle her,” he says.

I feel her sit atop me. Her cunt is wet. It is dripping in fact, right through my fishnet top.

She sits facing my ass so she can watch her own hand grasp the plug, moving it in and out.

I moan. She moves it faster, harder, fucking my ass like she has been doing this her whole life.

“Is this what you want, you worthless bitch?” she asks me.

“To get fucked with a fucking butt plug on all fours on the dirty floor of a cheap club? Shit, you are really pathetic.”


“I asked you a question.”

“Well, I…”

I feel her other hand come down hard on my ass, once twice . . . ten times.”

“Answer you slut.”

“Get out of my way,” she says to him.

“No problem.”

This is going to be a lot more interesting than he thought. Every now and then you find a kindred spirit.

I feel her in front of me, pulling my hair as he did. She pushes her cunt in my face. “Eat, bitch.”

I start to lick her. She is soaked.

“Faster. I don’t have that much time.”

I move my tongue quickly, trying. But she isn’t easy to please.

“What a drag this bitch is,” she says.

“I agree,” he replies. “She does try now and then, but really it is just so tiring. She knows a few other tricks, in case you want to come by some time.”

“Maybe, if I have nothing better to do.”

“I hear you,” he says. “Come on, let’s go see what else is happening around here.”

They walk away. I am still on all fours with my skirt hiked up.

A man’s voice.

“Hey girl, you look like you could use a little assistance.”

“Fuck off.”

Looks like another boring club night in Chicago.

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